A/N: begins when she leaves Dar Adal's house in "Long time coming." Multi-chapter fic, likely to be chronological.


She's driving fast - way to fast - she doesn't even know it. Just slowing down when she hits a red light, then she hits the gas again, not exactly sure where she's going. Anywhere but where she just came from.

Now she's finally having a chance to think about what's next. It's what she needs to do, but somehow she can only think of the past. About the things that brought her to where she is right here right now in this car. Alone as usual of course. In fact, more alone than ever.

Lovable? She repeats over and over trying to convince herself it's true - that it can happen - because it hasn't. A severe intervention is needed for her brain to process it, embrace it. Trying desperately to accept it's absoluteness, undoing absoluteness somehow. She unwillingly begins reminiscing over the past fifteen years, wondering what would have been different, for herself or anyone else around her. Probably everything, maybe nothing.

She doesn't want to think about, but it's fresh, starting with the word escaping the doctor's mouth. The feeling was there after it happened, but became real soon after. The word "bipolar" making it's way into her ears, bringing on a life of it's own. She's stamped then, branded forever.

She remembers the immediate pain in her former heart that her own mother didn't even love her. That's why she wasn't there right beside her, holding her hand, shelling out words of encouragement. None of that. Her mother not showing was worse than being in that fucking hospital. Her first bond in life completely shattered into a million pieces. With it were pieces of herself that she still can't put together. Her scars however, invisible.

Had she ever loved her? Any of them? It was impossible to believe otherwise. Most likely exiled her and Maggie too, because they belonged to Frank. A transcended illness condemning everything, anything and anyone involved. Enough of a reason right there, she understood it, but never actually accepted it.

The paranoia had engulfed her. Scared to death looks on the hospital staffs' faces. They were looking at her face. That's what she saw at least, like they wanted to run from her. They wanted to hide as far away as possible. Forced her to swallow pills, harsh scripted commands shouted to her, restraints too powerful to escape from; all apart of her life now.

It was tolerable when no one was in there at all. No one there to judge her or give her their 'expert opinion' or ask questions that she didn't want to answer. At least then she could harbor herself under the blankets so that she didn't have to look at the room, constantly being reminded of where she was.

After being delivered in heavy doses, the meds finally set in. They act like a parasite and she's the host. They're picking at her brain, taking it apart little by little, until it's nothing but extra flesh. Just dead weight attached to her body that makes her feel extinct. She's not functioning to any capacity besides the automatic breaths keeping her alive. Only perplexed thoughts are arising, making absolutely no sense to her. She's a prisoner in her own body and it's a life sentence. The Carrie Mathison she knew, perpetually faded away.